


Stars

by Sir_Bedevere



Series: Walk Beside Me (Thorin's Songs) [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/pseuds/Sir_Bedevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as the one with stargazing, introspection and tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

Bifur was on watch.

For the first few weeks of the journey they had been reluctant to let him take on the task alone, believing that the axe in his brain had taken more than his words from him. He was easily distracted, sometimes stopping midway through a conversation with Gandalf because he spotted a butterfly on the other side of the camp. He lost things – his bowl, his scarf, his gloves – and had no idea where he had had them last. The small carvings he did to pass the time were still beautiful but often left half finished until one of them would gently hand him a project he had started and left lying around when he saw something else that interested him.

To his credit, his absentmindedness was the only thing that concerned Thorin about the dwarf. He was loyal, always had been, and he still had the skill of the much accomplished fighter that he once was. Sometimes, if he was in a lucid enough state, he could be persuaded to tell an old story in his thick ancient language, a language that the older members of the party could understand well enough if he spoke slowly enough. Those occasions were rare though and so it was a long time before Bofur convinced them that his cousin could be allowed to take the watch, that he would fight like a cornered Warg before he let them get hurt.

To Bifur’s credit, he had not let them down.

On this night, the dwarf was sat by the fire, idly poking at the embers under the kettle he had just started boiling. Everyone else was asleep, curled close together against the chill of the night. Gandalf had disappeared several days previously, promising to join them again soon, and the fire was somewhat lacking for his magic to make it stronger. Thorin sat a little way away from the rest of them - as was his custom - wrapped in his cloak and leaning against a large tree. 

It was not because he distrusted Bifur that he was awake; rather, he wished he could be asleep, but sleep was not forthcoming on the road to Erebor, at least for him, and so he was watching out of the corner of one eye as Bifur very methodically and slowly brewed some of the tea that he was fond of. He was very deliberate, very careful, but he never made a mistake. 

He took two cups from the nearest pack on the nearest pony and poured the hot liquid into them. He left one by the fire and, holding the other very steady, his eyes fixed on his slightly shaking hand, he made his way slowly over the ground towards Thorin. Holding the cup out towards him, he smiled slightly and nodded. Thorin started; he hadn’t known Bifur knew he was awake, and he reached out reflexively to take the cup. The other dwarf smiled wider and went back to the fire.

Thorin looked reflectively into his cup and breathed deeply. Bifur always got it just right, when he was allowed to do it. Probably because he was so measured, like a child learning for the first time every time. 

Looking back over, Thorin saw that the other dwarf was laid on his back, staring up at the sky like a dwarfling allowed outside on his first night free of the mountain. Thorin looked up and noticed, for the first time, just how brightly the stars were shining on that cold night. With no cloud to block them, the constellations were clear to look upon and Thorin remembered those days, when he was young and carefree and had time for such things, when he would take his younger siblings to stand outside on a clear night and do just as he was doing now. He even allowed himself to wonder, for a brief moment, if his sister was looking at them now too and thinking of him.

But he could not dwell on that. To dwell was to be lost and he had been lost for long enough.

Instead he looked back to Bifur and, feeling an odd rush of affection as well as the cold running up his spine, Thorin stood up and went over to him. Bifur peered up at him and shifted over, away from his prime spot next to the fire and closer to his sleeping cousins. He patted that warm spot invitingly. Thorin did not know how Bifur knew he was particularly cold but, impulsively, Thorin lay down next to him and wrapped himself in his cloak.

They lay quietly for a while, their breath clouding in front of their faces, and just as Thorin was able to feel his fingers again, Bifur began to talk. He pointed to the constellation directly above them and said the name slowly in his ancient language, then he looked at Thorin expectantly, his eyebrows raised. When the king said nothing, he said the name again and then Thorin knew what he was supposed to do. He repeated the name slowly, wrapping his tongue carefully around each syllable. He could understand the language Bifur spoke, if he was slow enough, but he could not speak it. He had never had to speak it. He couldn’t have done too badly though, because Bifur nodded approvingly and moved on to the next group of stars. They worked through all of the constellations that they could see, Bifur patiently correcting him when he was wrong, and Thorin thought it ironic that this was the only thing in his life that Bifur didn’t have to work hard at. 

The lesson came to an end soon enough, when Nori woke for his watch, but Thorin was already so warm that he stayed settled close to Bifur and, the next thing he knew, it was morning. If any of the others noticed that his usual night time self-imposed exile from the group had been so unceremoniously ended, then they did not comment. Refreshed somewhat from the sleep, he spent some time thinking about just how much effort Bifur had to put into keeping up with them all and how he was never anything but high-spirited and cheerful whilst he was doing it. 

It hardly seemed fair, somehow.

And so Thorin swallowed his pride and, two days later when Gandalf returned to them, he pulled him aside to ask for help, and the next time Bifur brought him tea Thorin was able to speak.

“Thank you, my friend. Thank you very much.”

And it was all worth the smile on Bifur’s face.


End file.
